


sometimes we need to fall apart to find each other again

by BestDeadFriendsForever



Series: pirates don't make good nursemaids-verse [2]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, It's been three years since Happy London Days, James Flint is bisexual and y'all can fight me on it, Kid Fic, M/M, Multi, OT3, Post London Era, Pre-Canon, Thomas Hamilton is a sassy shit, Threesome - F/M/M, Vague mentions of Thomas's time in Bedlam, and i love him for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 03:42:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17994209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BestDeadFriendsForever/pseuds/BestDeadFriendsForever
Summary: When James was stood in front of him, Thomas swayed a little toward him out of habit. He nearly lost his footing and James’s hands, covered in blood, fluttered nervously toward him before he clenched his hands. “Thomas…?” James asked in such a quiet and broken voice that Thomas couldn’t suppress the soft noise that clawed its way out of his throat.“James,” Thomas said back and they just took each other in.





	sometimes we need to fall apart to find each other again

                Thomas thought himself a learned man. He even thought himself an impressive dreamer with a tendency toward fancy. But never in his life could he have known or even imagined the hellscape that was Bedlam. He shuddered to even think of the name of that God-forsaken place.

            Thomas’s whole body trembled at the memories of beatings and bleedings and when they’d blistered him all in the sake of “curing” him of his supposed affliction. But Thomas had been resilient. He knew in his heart that he wasn’t ill. There was nothing wrong with him for having loved- for _loving_ \- James and Miranda. They were both a part of him as much as his own fingers and toes. Thinking of them had been the only solace he had from the damp cells that were stifling when it was warm out and bitterly freezing when the weather turned cold.

            He hadn’t really been sure of how much time had passed when they hauled him up and put heavy shackles around his neck, wrists, and ankles. It had felt like an eternity but Thomas knew that he wouldn’t have lasted that long. He’d been sheltered growing up, not having to see the harsh realities of the depravity that humans carried inside them. But now, now he knew better. He’d learned.

            He was taken into a room much like the rooms they’d put him in for his “treatments” and then a familiar face was in front of him. The face of his very own lord father.

            “Thomas,” the man barked gruffly when Thomas ducked his head so he wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. He couldn’t afford to vomit up what little he’d been allowed to eat and drink. “Dammit, Thomas look at me.”

            “Why?” Thomas asked and his voice was raw and raspy. “What does it matter?”

            His father scoffed in disgust but then plowed on despite Thomas not bending to his will. “From today forward, you are no longer to be Thomas Hamilton. You are to be a mentally deficient prisoner that is giving back to the society that raised him in the only way that is fitting and proper for your crimes: hard labor in the colonies.”

            As pitiful as it was, it was almost a relief to hear. Thomas looked up at his father and laughed. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to do so, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe he’d finally been broken by this place. The thought didn’t distress him as much as Thomas thought that it should. Alfred Hamilton looked angry that Thomas wasn’t distressed by the news and that only made Thomas laugh all the harder.

            “Take him out of here!” His father commanded.

            Thomas didn’t stop laughing until they’d locked the door of his cell.

…..

            Being on a boat did not agree with Thomas in the slightest. Though perhaps it wasn’t necessarily the boat but the conditions in which Thomas was kept in. He was sure that being pressed in with an innumerable amount of unwashed bodies could turn any man’s stomach.

            A part of him, when seeing the ocean, had immediately thought of James. James’s red hair, the freckles that dotted his face and shoulders, the boyish almost-shy crookedness of his smile, the way his eyes crinkled on the rare occasions that he laughed aloud. It’d warmed Thomas despite the chilling breeze that had been wafting off the water.

            Even now, he was thinking about his lost loves and wondering where they were and what they were doing. He assumed that James had gone back to the Navy, though perhaps they’d exposed him too. Thomas shuddered to think of James being locked in Bedlam or worse, hanging at the end of a noose. He preferred to think of James returning to the Navy. Miranda though, she would most likely have left England altogether and he was glad of it. She deserved to see more of the world. They’d talked and talked about it but never thought it a good time to actually _go._

            He heard a commotion but with the way they were packed so tightly, he couldn’t turn to try and look around. He was sure that even if he could it wouldn’t have done him any good. They were too far down in the hold so there would be no views to the outside. The commotion only got louder and louder and then it went nearly silent. The men around him went silent as well and it was like all of them were holding their breath as a collective.

            The door was kicked in and the men closest to it scrambled back, pressing their bodies even closer so that Thomas felt like he couldn’t breathe. He heard a man’s voice swearing. “Jesus Christ,” he heard and then it was raised so that all of them could hear it. “Let’s get you lot out of here.”

            And as quickly as they’d pressed in to get away from the door, they were scrambling to get out. Thomas, not sure how he felt or what he really wanted, let himself be jostled about until he was standing amidst the others on the deck, blinking against the sun. He shaded his eyes and tried to assess what was happening, but his eyes refused to focus properly.

            “Found these men below deck, Captain,” the man who’d freed them said and Thomas turned to the voices. His eyes, now decently adjusted to the sunlight, caught on the captain and he felt like he could faint.

            “I want them fed and given water,” the captain was saying as he swept his eyes over the men. “Take the-em t-” His speech stuttered a little before it faltered as those brilliant eyes fell on Thomas. Thomas’s heart fluttered in his chest as James, the captain, excused himself and walked over to Thomas.

            When James was stood in front of him, Thomas swayed a little toward him out of habit. He nearly lost his footing and James’s hands, covered in blood, fluttered nervously toward him before he clenched his hands. “Thomas…?” James asked in such a quiet and broken voice that Thomas couldn’t suppress the soft noise that clawed its way out of his throat.

            “James,” Thomas said back and they just took each other in.

            So much had changed in their time apart. James’s hair, Thomas regretted to observe, was shorter and was falling into his face in short waves. His face was speckled with blood in an eerie facsimile of his freckles. He looked weary in a way that Thomas had never seen before. And Thomas had changed as well. While at Bedlam, they’d cropped his hair and it’d only now started to grow into something resembling what it once was, though it wasn’t nearly as fair as it had once been, but perhaps that had more to do with the general dirtiness of Thomas’s person. He hadn’t been allowed to shave since being put on the boat so stubble prickled at his face. He must have looked a fright in James’s eyes.

            “Captain?” The man James have been speaking to raised an eyebrow.

            “Take him to my cabin,” James said shortly. “Make sure that no one disturbs him there. I’ll finish up here, Mr. Gates, and then be right there.”

            The man- Mr. Gates- nodded and gestured for Thomas to follow him. They had lowered a plank and Mr. Gates helped steady Thomas as they crossed. Thomas felt dizzy as they went into the cabin and he all but collapsed into the chair that Mr. Gates gestured to. He went to the door and seemed to grab someone who was passing. “Be a good lad and bring me some food and water.”

            The door was shut after that and Thomas was left just looking at the man. Thomas shifted a little uncomfortably under the scrutiny but he tried not to make it obvious. Mr. Gates opened his mouth to speak but then the door was opening and James was standing there, most of the blood wiped from his hands, face, and neck, and that desperate and broken look in his eyes.

            “You mind tellin’ me what the fuck is goin’ on?” Mr. Gates asked, his eyebrow ticking up in a most unimpressed manner.

            “This is Thomas Hamilton,” James said, his eyes never leaving Thomas’s.

            “Pleasure to meet you. I’d shake your hand if I thought that I could make it that far,” Thomas said and gave a weak smile.

            “And you two know each other how?” Mr. Gates asked, crossing his arms. His eyes were burning a hole into the back of James’s skull but he seemed content to ignore it in favor of looking his fill of Thomas.

            “If I could have the room?” James asked, finally turning his eyes to Mr. Gates. Gates looked like he wanted to argue, but he merely threw up his hands and shook his head.

            “Logan’s bringing up something for him so don’t bite his head off, yeah?” James nodded and Gates scowled at him one last time before he left. James looked at the door for a moment before he slowly turned back to Thomas and shuffled over to stand in front of him. Thomas swallowed thickly and then before he could blink, James was on his knees in front of him and cradling his face gently. Thomas’s breathing audibly rattled as he tried desperately to shove down the unpleasant sensation that touch brought him. He jerked a little in James’s hold but then he found himself relaxing and leaning his forehead against James’s.

            “We were told you were dead,” James said quietly and Thomas could hear the tears in his love’s voice.

            “Thomas Hamilton died, yes, but I’m still here,” Thomas said quietly and let his eyes slip shut. He felt James’s thumbs smooth over his skin and he shuddered a little at how overwhelming even the slightest contact was.

            “Miranda will be thrilled,” James said as he pulled back and let his hands drop to Thomas’s, smoothing his thumbs over Thomas’s knuckles. James’s hands were even more calloused that Thomas remembered.

            “Miranda?” Thomas asked and his breath caught in his chest. He hadn’t imagined that the two of them were still together, waiting for him. At least, in a way. James opened his mouth and then shut it as if thinking better of what he’d been about to say. He sucked in a breath, making to speak, but then there was a knock on the cabin door. James got up and went over. There was a brief exchange before James was coming back and setting a small plate of food and a tin cup of water down on the desk. “You were going to say something,” Thomas pointed out, ignoring his hunger for the moment.

            “Eat something, it can wait,” James said before swiping his knuckles over Thomas’s cheek. “I’ll look for something clean for you to wear.”

            Thomas wanted to argue, but in all truthfulness he was too tired to. He dutifully ate the soup and crust of bread before drinking down all the water in the cup. He smiled at James gratefully when he handed Thomas clean clothes. Thomas stood on shaky legs and he moved over to the wash basin. He didn’t think he could bear to see James’s face when he first laid eyes on the scars that Thomas knew marred his body. He pulled off his shirt and discarded it with disgust before he used the cool water in the basin to scrub down his face, neck, and chest. It felt good to be even a semblance of clean again as he pulled on the shirt. It was a soft linen and Thomas trailed his fingers over it appreciatively.

            “Thomas?” James asked and Thomas turned, not sure how long he’d been standing there without moving. Probably longer than he thought based on the concerned gleam in James’s eyes.

            Thomas put on as cheery a smile as he could muster. “Alright, love.” He was much better than he’d been previously in any case. Something in James seemed to relax and he made his way over to Thomas. He reached out and settled his hands on Thomas’s arms and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Now, what were you going to tell me?”

            James nodded and his lips formed a thin line. “We should sit,” James said and guided them to the suspended cot. They settled on the edge of it and James chewed his lip before he took a shuddering breath. “After we left London,” James started cautiously, looking down at his hands. “Miranda and I went to Nassau. It seemed… I don’t know, perhaps poetic somehow?” James shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now, we went and we stayed. Or… Miranda stayed while I did _this_.” James gestured around him with a wry smile.

            “You couldn’t keep away from the sea,” Thomas teased.

            James huffed out a shaky laugh. “Not quite.” He seemed tense before he continued. “Not long after we arrived in Nassau, Miranda- well- she told me something that changed everything. _That’s_ why I returned to sailing.” James gave Thomas a weak smile. He knew that he wasn’t explaining very well but he wasn’t sure whether Miranda wanted to tell Thomas herself or not.

            “James, you can tell me anything,” Thomas said and moved to take his hand.

            “Miranda realized that she was pregnant,” James said bluntly. He took Thomas’s hand and gently stroked circles into the thin skin across Thomas’s knuckles.

Thomas’s breath stuttered out of his chest and he tightened his grip on James’s hand. “My God,” he muttered and furrowed his brow. He tried to think of how long he’d been gone, but he still couldn’t be sure.

“You’ll get to meet him soon,” James said and he brought Thomas’s hand up to brush a soft kiss there.

“A boy?” Thomas would have been pleased with a child regardless of its sex. Yet the thought of a boy warmed Thomas’s chest inexplicably.

“A boy,” James confirmed. He let go of Thomas’s hand to let it rest on his lower back. “You should get some rest. I have some things that need to be taken care of, but no one will bother you. I promise.”

Thomas nodded and he let his eyes slip shut at James leaned in to press a tender kiss to his forehead. He settled down to get some rest and found himself exhausted. He curled up, not truly able to lay flat without his feet hanging off the end, and let himself fall asleep.

…..

            “You mind tellin’ me what’s going on now?” Gates asked as soon as Flint was finished with securing the prize. Flint was leaning against the railing and he glanced over at his quartermaster.

            “I know him, or… I _knew_ him. We were very different men back then,” Flint said almost wistfully. The hint of a smile was curling at the edge of Flint’s mouth.

            Gates had figured a great deal about his captain. The man was wrapped in secrets, but Gates had pegged him in a few ways. This gentle fondness that softened the usually tense line of Flint’s shoulders, that baffled Gates more than he could say. “So, what?” Gates asked and the tension came back to Flint’s shoulders.

            “So we take him back to Nassau with the rest,” Flint said and stood up to his full height. “Will that be a problem?”

            Gates studied the raised eyebrow and scowl that marred Flint’s face. He shrugged lightly. “I doubt it. Though, I’d be careful.” There was no threat behind Gates’s words, but he now had a decent idea what this man had once been to his captain. “The men don’t need any footholds to crack you open.”

            Flint blinked, as if surprised by Gates’s defense of him, and then nodded. “Thank you.”

            “Anytime,” Gates said and waved him off. “I’d say about a day and a half before we return to Nassau.”

            Flint nodded and he went back to staring out over the ocean. Gates left him to his thoughts.

…..

            Thomas fiddled with the cuff of his shirt as he got his first glimpses of Nassau. He was standing on the deck where James had left him and just watched as the island turn from a speck   into a full island where Thomas could even see people milling about. It was more beautiful than Thomas had imagined, or James had been able to describe. But despite his excitement, Thomas felt his nerves pricking at the back of his mind.

            Somewhere on that little island, Miranda was waiting for him. Miranda and his child that he’d never met before.

            The thought made him slightly nauseous.

            Thomas was pulled out of his musing by James calling orders to the men and then gathering them so that they could organize to go ashore. Thomas hadn’t had much interaction with them, James insisting that he keep close to him or that Thomas remain in the cabin if he could, but they seemed like normal men and boys to Thomas. Rough around the edges to be sure, but nothing like the stories of pirates that had made their way back to London.

            Thomas locked eyes with James and the other gave him a wry smile before leaving Mr. Gates, James’s right hand Thomas had quickly surmised, to finish up. James moved to lean back against the railing that Thomas was holding onto. “Is it anything like you’d hoped?”

            “Better,” Thomas said and gave him a smile.

            “You may think otherwise when you see it up close,” James said and shrugged. “But knowing you, you’ll most likely adore it down to every last rat.” James snorted and Thomas couldn’t help but smile a little. It was the closest Thomas had seen him to his old self since they’d been reunited.

            “I don’t know about that, I think I’ve rather gotten over my indulgent attitude towards rats.” It was meant to be a joke, but it came out more bitter. Thomas suppressed the shudder that wanted to rise up as Bedlam tried to wrap it’s fingers around him once more. James’s eyes softened a little around the edges and he clapped a hand down on Thomas’s shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but Thomas felt the reassurance that James was trying to convey. He leaned into the touch in response before shrugging it off.

            “If you’re ready,” James said and swept his arm out. Thomas nodded and together they made their way to where the longboats would take them ashore. Thomas couldn’t help but pluck at his frayed shirt cuff restlessly as they rowed to shore.

            Thomas had every intention of walking towards the pirate town was set up, expecting that to be where Miranda to be, but James just grabbed his elbow and steered him away silently. His brow was furrowed and he looked almost as anxious as Thomas felt.

            They walked to the edges of town before James went to where a horse was stabled. Thomas looked around in confusion but James’s movements were sure as he saddled the horse and then swung himself up. He held his hand out to Thomas expectantly and Thomas took it so that he could be helped into the saddle behind James.

            Then they were off. The town was quickly left behind and they were cantering down a dusty road that seemed to stretch on forever with nothing in sight except some patches of unused land. Thomas was lulled into a half-doze by the heat so he was unprepared when they came to a stop. James helped him down and together they walked the horse towards the small helf-shelter. James was tying the reins to the post when Thomas heard a familiar voice.

            “James? Is that you?!” Thomas froze as he heard Miranda’s voice. His heart was thudding in his chest so loudly as he turned towards where he could hear her. He could see her, outlined in the early afternoon sunlight, but her view of him was obscured. “We weren’t expecting you so soon.” She settled her hands under the tell-tale swell of her belly and Thomas felt his stomach twist. He couldn’t discern whether it was unpleasant or not.

            “I wasn’t thinking I’d be back soon either, but… circumstances changed,” James said and turned to look at Thomas.

            “Is someone with you?” Miranda asked with a smile in her voice that had Thomas’s hands trembling. Thomas stepped out so that she could see him properly before he turned to give Miranda a tentative smile.

            “Hello, darling,” Thomas said and Miranda’s eyes widened and then instantly filled with tears.

            Before either of them could speak again, they heard an unintelligible shout. “Papa!” All three of their eyes were drawn to the doorway of the house where a small boy was standing, beaming. He only paused long enough to be noticed before he was running full pelt towards James and throwing himself against his legs. “You’re back!”

            “I am,” James said with a smile as he shifted the boy so they were face-to-face. “And I’ve brought someone very special.”

            The boy’s blue eyes easily slipped to Thomas and he smiled so easily at him. “Who is it, Papa?”

            “Sweetheart,” Miranda said and moved to put a hand on the boy’s back. “This is your other father.” Her voice was as soft as her touch as she smoothed his blond hair away from his eyes. Thomas gave the boy a shaky smile but he felt so unsure as to what to do.

            “Oh, alright,” he said easily and turned his attention back to James. “Did you bring me anything?”

            James let out a short bark of nervous laughter and Thomas and Miranda followed suit. “I’m sure Mr. Gates will have a new story when he comes. I’ll write it down with the others.” He brushed a kiss to the boy’s forehead and he seemed content with that answer.

            “Let’s go inside, shall we?” Miranda asked and both men nodded.

            Thomas shuffled behind the other two and he felt shaky as he took in the small home that housed his family. _His family_. The thought made tears prick at the corners of his eyes. It was comfortable and Thomas felt out of place standing there in the small kitchen. James had set the boy down and was going about making tea while Miranda settled in a chair, her eyes on Thomas.

            Thomas swallowed and moved to sit when she raised an eyebrow at him. “I wasn’t sure how long I’d been gone,” Thomas admitted quietly, his eyes on the wood of the table, “but now I feel as if I’ve missed everything.” He slowly lifted his eyes to Miranda’s and her gaze was only filled with love.

            “Three years,” she said quietly as he reached out to cover his hands with hers. “We’d been told you were dead.”

            “My father very much wanted it that way,” Thomas said with a humorless laugh. “Thomas Hamilton died in Bedlam shortly before I was put on that ship. Now I’m simply myself.”

            “That’s more than we could possibly have hoped for,” Miranda said and she squeezed his hands firmly.

            “What’s his name?” Thomas asked, his voice strained around the lump in his throat.

            “Thomas,” James said, keeping his back to them as he fiddled with the kettle. “After his father, of course.”

            “Tommy, for short,” Miranda clarified. “He rarely gets called Thomas unless he’s in trouble. It felt… it brought up too many memories.” She shook her head.

            “I’m sorry,” Thomas said guiltily and he pulled his hands away from hers.

            “What have you to be sorry for?” James asked and finally turned to look at them. There was so much hurt in his eyes that Thomas felt even more guilt pressing at him.

            “I left you for so long-”

            “You were _taken_ from us,” James hissed. “That’s hardly the same thing.” He shook his head, obviously angry though Thomas knew it wasn’t directed at him personally.

            “But-”

            “No,” Miranda said firmly. Her eyes showed the same hurt and anger, but Thomas felt some of the guilt lift from his shoulders. “You will not apologize for that man’s mistakes. I won’t have it, Thomas. Not in my home. Not again.”

            Thomas was nearly speechless so he merely nodded.

            The kettle was ready and James prepared a pot of tea before setting it on the table. They were all sitting there with their drinks and Thomas felt unsure of himself for the first time in a long time with these two.

            “You must have questions,” Miranda broke the silence and settled her cup in its saucer. She was always the middle ground between Thomas and James. She balanced them.

            “I’m not even sure where to start,” Thomas said and cradled his cup between his hands. “You two were happy?” He asked and looked between them.

            They glanced at each other and James looked out the window with a wince. “We had made a tentative peace with what our lives were going to be,” Miranda said carefully. “I have my life here with Tommy and I wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world, but… but I missed you, missed James when he was gone.” James’s jaw clenched but he didn’t speak up. “But things were different, they had to be.”

            Thomas nodded slowly and he settled his cup in its saucer. “I’m not who I was,” Thomas admitted. “My father and Bedlam made sure of that.” There was an edge to his voice that he knew would be a surprise to them.

            “Neither are we,” James said in the same tight tone. “But we’ll manage.”

            “We’ll have to,” Miranda said thoughtfully as she set a hand to her belly. Thomas’s eyes flicked down and then back to Miranda’s face. Judging by the smile she gave him, he’d been caught doing it.

            “When?” Thomas asked, knowing that Miranda would know what he meant.

            “Three or four months from now, I’d say,” Miranda said with a small smile.

            Tommy came clattering back into the kitchen with all the enthusiasm of a boy his age before climbing into James’s lap. “Papa, Mr. Gates is here. He says you better have a good e‘planation ready.”

            James sighed and covered Tommy’s ears. “Fuck me,” he mumbled.

            “I heard that!” Tommy said.

            “You most certainly did _not_ ,” James said but his ears were turning pink in embarrassment as he sent Miranda an apologetic glance.

            “Yes, I did, you said fu-”

             “You better not finish that sentence, young man,” Miranda said, and Tommy looked at his mother sheepishly. “Go on and get your storybook. If you’re good,” she gave him a stern look, “Papa will write down a new story from Mr. Gates.” Tommy darted off to do as he was told.

             Thomas just blinked at how quickly everything had changed. James got up and went to go see to whatever it was Gates wanted. Miranda patted his hand. “You’ll get used to it.” She stood and gathered the china from tea. “Having a pirate in the family certainly keeps things lively around here.”

             Thomas felt overwhelmed. Everything had changed from the way things had been in London, but maybe- no, _definitely_ , they were going to be much better. He couldn’t explain how he knew that, but he knew. So he got up and asked Miranda what he could do to help. She graced him with a beautiful smile that had Thomas settling in his new home.

**Author's Note:**

> So now Thomas is back and we can all be happy! The family shenanigans are only going to get more and more ridiculous as I go along because these characters deserve happiness, alright?  
> -James


End file.
